| This story sucks take me home. |
| My War With Grandma Grandma doesn�t like the idea of me having a girlfriend. She does take into consideration that sooner or later I am going to have one. She feels that if I must see girls they better be ones she approves of, or rather, hand selects. So on occasion I have found myself on dates with the mousy daughters of the Ladies Church Group. Don�t get me wrong, there�s nothing wrong with being mousy and flat-chested but these girls have personalities about as complex as their looks. They wear dresses and want to see boring movies. Grandma�s idea of a good date is a girl straight from the Church Quiz Bowl Team. A girl that never smiles. I am certain that Grandma picks them out by their looks too: plain! She lives in constant fear that I am going to be �tempted� by a �harlot,� the devils clutch and all. She is petrified of pornography and actually takes time to worry about it. Dear woman doesn�t realize I don�t need any �tempting,� I�ll take anyone who will have me! So anyway, I take the prudes out and am polite to them and all. The truth is they don�t want to be there anymore than I do, both of us subject to the suitoring of our ruthless guardians. The truth is they want to be out with Billy or Tom from the football team, not Zepher who won 1st prize in a writing competition back in 7th grade. These dates, seven in all, where completely unsuccessful, but that doesn�t discourage Grandma one bit. Every once in a while I�ll see one of the girls in school and we pretend not to see each other. But this date is different. And I�m standing in front of the mirror wondering what the hell to do with myself. Do I smell? Do my clothes match? Will she care? -- When Steph knocked on the door last night I went to answer it and Grandma asked, �Now who could that be?� �I told you Grandma, I�m going out with a new friend of mine.� I opened the door and she stood there in flared jeans, battered tennis shoes, and a tight red shirt. Too tight. Too tight in Grandmas eyes and I knew it. I invited her in and braced myself for what was to happen. I hoped that her navy blue pea coat and straight, breast-length hair would cover that shirt. But Grandmas wizened eyes have some sort of radar on them. � A girl? You didn�t tell me you where going out with a girl young man! I will not have you�� I could feel my neck burning. Stephaine cut her off: �You must be Mrs. Russel! I�ve heard all about you, Zepher has told me such wonderful things about you!� She lies well. �Funny, he never says such wonderful things about me here. He doesn�t appreciate his old Grandmother slaving away! After all the things I�ve done for�� �Grandma, we really need to get going before the movie starts.� �Don�t you sass me young man! I haven�t said you could go any where!� �Bye Grandma!� I hollered as I shoved Steph out the door. �Nice to meet you Mrs. Russel!� Steph called. �There will be words when you get home young�� Slam! With a sigh I glanced sheepishly at Stephanie. �I�m sorry, I should have warned you about her.��Don�t worry about it. I told my dad I was going to a girlfriend�s house so you wouldn�t have to meet him. He�s nice and everything, just a bit, um, paranoid.� She has a nice car. A restored yellow 49� Chevy that she bought with waitressing money and her life savings. The date went so great! She offered to pay but I wouldn�t let her. We saw a comedy. This wasn�t like the other dates. It went so natural, we talked and laughed the whole time. I know I�m in love. I could write a lengthy paper about it, but I don�t need to. It�s just like in the movies. And though I hate to say it, I keep remembering the stories grandma told me about meeting Grandpa. Even when she talks about him she sort of grins and gets a soft look in her eye. I couldn�t help comparing Steph and I to them. I want a love like grandmas. Steph may be it. A strange thing happened while we were in the car. When it got quiet Steph said, �Can I tell you something? I mean, you won�t tell anyone?� I looked at her and could tell that she was really nervous and for once quite serious. I said, �Yes, of course.� �Well it�s just my parents. I mean they fight all the time. It gets so I can�t stand it. At my house I mean. I go in my room while they yell and yell. They yell at me too. I hate it, I can�t stand it. They aren�t abusive or anything, but I mean they just yell all the time is all. �You know, and the hell of it is, I always thought it was normal. I always thought that�s the way every family is, but when I met Lindsay last year and went to her house I saw what an actual real family is like. Even when she gets in an argument with her parents they don�t yell like my family does. So after I realized what a normal family is I can�t stand mine anymore. �I try not to yell back. I try to ignore them, but it�s so hard. They just go and go at me until I finally give in. Just to make them shut up. But the hell of it is, that just makes them yell more! I�m damned if I do, damned if I don�t. I know you can�t do anything about it, but they say its good to tell people secrets. I�m surprised I told you really. I mean no one knows about all this, not even Lindsay. It�s just that it seemed like you�d understand is all.� That was all it took. Before I realized it I was telling her everything. The fights with Grandma, never knowing my parents, just wanting out so bad. And I knew she understood too. When her car was out of sight it was time to face Grandma. The living room light was on. She�d been sitting there in silence watching �a nice preacher� on TV ever since I left, just thinking. She has two tactics - wrath and guilt. I opened the door to silence. This meant she was going for guilt. It always works on me too. You�d think after all these years I�d be immune to it but no� it always works. And that�s not the worst of it. She goes on and on and starts crying. And then� I tear up. Then she has me where she wants me. At this point she can play me like a fiddle � I�ll do anything. I can�t help it I get so guilty, but for no reason! I can�t help it. But as I stood before the door I made up my mind, she wasn�t going to get me, not this time. I walked in that door shaking. I could feel it � I was going to win this time. There she sat, just as I imagined. She looked up slowly as though she were generally weary. She has this look down to an art. The tears, the sounds, its always the same. She can�t let me alone for a minute and lives to save me, or torment me as I call it, but I know what it really is. Its really her attempt to make everyone think she is so great, and everyone knows how she took in the poor little orphan from the hands of the devil and turned him into the perfect boy. She has this obsession with us sitting together in the family pew, always together, always perfect. We�ll be in Heaven together by God! She does care about me and want me to be religious for my own benefit, but also for hers, to keep her saintly reputation, not my soul. And oh is she a saint! �Have a good time?� �Yes. As a matter of fact I had a wonderful time.� �That�s good. I�m glad. I hope you didn�t worry about me all alone in this house.� �I didn�t.� (Isn�t that great?) �Oh good. I wouldn�t want to ruin your evening. I�m glad you had so much fun, I didn�t. It got cold and I stopped breathing for a spell. I called your name but you . . . weren�t . . . here!� Tears dripped down her wrinkled cheeks, getting lost someplace in the crevices. �That�s too bad.� When I said that I felt like the coldest bastard in the world, and don�t think she didn�t know. I walked straight to the bathroom and shut the door. Was that it? Was it over? No. I heard her slippers shuffle up to outside the door where she started again softly. �Nice girl . . . Sophie?� �Stephanie.� �She isn�t like the other girls you date.� � That�s because you pick out all the other girls I date.� �Oh?� �Yes.� �Well I didn�t realize you like that type.� �What type?� I should have kept my mouth shut. I was asking for it. My adrenaline was still pumping from my date and I almost wanted confrontation. �You know, the type that wears those clothes.� �What clothes?� �My thoughts exactly.� Damn she�s good. I opened the bathroom door. �Grandma, I really like her.� � Because she has�� �What?� �Has�� �Breasts?� Grandma jumped back and gasped. This was awful! This was great! I felt fire in my eyes and wanted to shock the old woman again. �How could you? How could you say something so filthy to me? How could you say that?� �What? Breasts? Breasts, breasts, breasts!� The old woman dropped to her knees and groaned, reaching her white arms towards me. She tilted her head up, tears running, chin quivering. Her dry shriveled lips parted. �Forgive him Father! Forgive him, he is young and doesn�t know! Oh just forgive him! He doesn�t realize how he hurts his dear Grandma! He just doesn�t know! Lord, Lord, Lord! Just forgive him is all I ask! Sacrifice me for his sins! Take me instead Lord! He doesn�t know! He�s young and doesn�t know! I try Lord, You know I try! Just forgive him is all I ask!� she sobbed. This is where I would normally crack. Just seeing an eighty year old woman get down on her knees is enough to make anyone cry, or laugh. But I wasn�t giving in this time. This time I just walked past her and into my room. I shut the door. A moment later she collapsed against it, mumbling things like �Christian witness� and �Youth for Christ.� She carried on and on! I locked the door and pressed play on my tape player. This only made her cry and groan louder. I turned the tape up. She increased her volume until she was almost screaming. I turned up the volume all the way and ten minutes later when I peeked outside she was gone. I won! I won? -- When I woke up this morning Grandma had not made breakfast, she was still in bed. Apparently, she has come down with an acute illness of some kind, and although the symptoms are vague, she assured me she�s going to die soon. Apparently, our little quarrel last night sent her into such a shock she�s going to die now, and I�m going to be sent to an orphanage, then I�ll be sorry! Then I�ll be sorry for what I did to her. When I�m eating gruel everyday � just wait and see, I�ll be sorry then! Apparently� The woman is a devil! I swear! I didn�t think she would sink this low! I didn�t care last night, and I�m not going to care now! I�m through caving! No more of that. She�s not going to get me again! This is too sneaky and conniving. She�s pushing it � even for her! I�m not giving in. The only thing I�m worried about is she�s not eating. I couldn�t make her eat this morning or when I got home from school, but I bet while I was gone she was in the kitchen eating all sorts of things and calling her friends in the Ladies Church Group to tell them to pray for me and give her strength. They will reassure her that she has done all she can and that she is still a perfect angel. But I�m done with caving, you�ll see. -- Last night I made a mental study of all the food in the house and how everything was arranged. When I came home from school today everything was the same, and I�m pretty sure Grandma looked a little paler. Is she really crazy enough to do this? I�m not going to give in yet. -- I gave in. Today when I got home from school nothing had changed. She really isn�t eating. And I didn�t even think about her pills! What if she isn�t taking her pills? Boy I really did it this time! How can I be so selfish? I just didn�t think she�d do it! I really didn�t think she�d do it! But she did and I�m to blame! How could I do this? Granted, she has done some mean things to me before but she means well. She didn�t deserve this! I remember once I walked in on Grandma looking at old photo albums. She was crying. And when I sat down next to her and tried to comfort her she dried her eyes and tried to tell me the dust from the pages was making her eyes water. I don�t understand her. When she isn�t trying to make me feel guilty she is a very strong person. She�s lived through so much. She has had a long and very hard life. She�s told me stories about the things she has done and lived through and she tried to make them out like they where no big deal. I know they are true too because I can almost see her reaching back into her mind and watching her past life like a movie. I can see in her eyes how she�s living it all over again in her mind. Her eyes always give her away. I can tell when she�s happy, sad, tired, afraid, hurt� I can see in her eyes that she is afraid and hurt now. I have a picture of her and Grandpa when she was young. She was very beautiful. Her eyes had been a dark deep blue, but as she has gotten older they have turned to a bleary, light, washed-out blue. But they still give her away. I�m glad they do. When she tells me she loves me I can see she means it. She looks away so her eyes won�t give her away when she tells me she loves me because I think she�s afraid of her feelings. Every time she�s loved someone they�ve died or run off. That�s why she so badly wants to control me, so I can�t leave her. Really, I�m all she has. Really, she�s all I have. Even when my own parents ran off, she was there. And what do I do? I go ahead and break her heart. But it isn�t that easy just to give in. I called Simon and he said let her starve and then go live with him. Yesterday I probably would have! What�s happening to me? How am I going to make her eat, and take her pills? What am I supposed to do now? -- Today Grandma�s hunger strike triumphed. How can I be so stupid? How does she manage to get me every time? Guilt ate through me all day during school and when I got home I ran straight to her room and fell down beside her bed, bursting into tears. �I�m sorry!� I wailed, �Please eat! Please forgive me! Just eat, for me! I need you, you can�t leave me! Just eat! Please!� She got a far away look in her eye and sighed, �Its too late. It�s too late. You be a good boy and say you miss your old Grandma. Now you just promise to be a good boy and attend church regularly.� �No! You can�t leave! You can�t die! I�ll do anything! I�m so sorry!� �There�s nothing that can be done, it�s too late.� We went on like this for quite a while until finally my shoulders where shaking as I bawled helplessly into her wrinkled old blotchy hand. She was crying too by this time and I was ready to kill myself for murdering my Grandma when she oh-so-faintly said, �Well, maybe there is one thing�� �What? What is it? You name it and I�ll do it! I need you! Oh, what is it?� �If you just . . . stopped seeing that girl . . . perhaps I would know that you really care about me.� I suppose my face got red and the veins in my neck stuck out because then she added, �of course I could just die�� We sat like that, me on the floor, her stretched out in the bed, for a very long time. Grandma was playing her greatest trick yet, and I was playing right into it. I, in fact, had not won, but rather lost miserably. She had me. I couldn�t let her keep not eating! And with that, �fine.� �You promise you�ll never talk to her again?� �Yes.� I went straight into my room and started crying again. I hate her! She gets me everywhere I turn! She will not let me be happy! I can hear her making dinner now. But she�s not what I�m thinking about. Stephanie. I can�t actually keep my promise, can I? -- Now Grandma is off her hunger strike and last night after I didn�t eat my supper and she went to bed I crept into the kitchen to get something to eat . . . I noticed things. A can of soup missing, an apple, and the kicker, two boxes of Little Debbies! She wasn�t starving! Her sickness was all in my head! I haven�t confronted her and I�m not going to because it isn�t important anymore. Stephanie gave me a letter at school today: Hey Zeph, How are things? Sorry we haven�t talked in a while but I�ve been really busy. I�ve been thinking though�now call me tonight and tell me what you think of this� See, I�ve been thinking, I can�t stand my life at my house, and you can�t stand your life at your house, so why don�t we just leave? People do it all the time. Now hear me out on this, I�ve got $500 saved up and we could go this Friday. Now we wouldn�t have to stay away forever, just a break at least, we can decide later when to come back. We can decide where we�re going later too. I have an aunt in Montana who would take us in, but like I said we can decide that later. Listen, I know it sounds crazy, but you and me, we can pull it off right? We�ve got to get out of here Zepher! I haven�t told anyone, so you can�t either. Give me a call tonight and tell me if you�re up for it, I am. Love, Stephanie I called her. I�m going. -- Neither of us took much stuff with us, a gym bag each. I told Grandma Simon�s mom was picking me up, and by 6:00 Steph and I were tearing out of town, windows down, radio up. Never in my life have I felt so free! We sang aloud to all the songs, even if we didn�t know the words! The sky was blue with big white clouds and the roads were clear. We zoomed down the road away from our lives, away from our families! Guiltless, worriless, and free. Night fell and we rolled the windows up � but inside the car we laughed and sang. It was so amazing just driving like this! Night started to fall. The sky was orange at the bottom, getting lighter and bluer as it reached up and away forever. Steph and I grew silent and I looked out the window as the whole sky turned dark. Neither of us talked about our families � that was the past now. The first stars appeared and a Grateful Dead song came on the radio. Steph turned it up and a thought popped into my head. I turned to her and asked, �What if Grandma forgets to take her pills?� A faint smile flickered at the sides of Stephanie�s mouth and her face got soft as she looked at me. She turned the car around in a diner parking lot and we headed home. |